We were seated on life’s sound that never fades and dies (a kind of light which eternally shapes our being, our feelings, bending them little by little). All of us. A bridge across the border had appeared, a bridge of brass—
a bridge across the earth, of silver.
The breath of Capricorn misted the windows, its tail spreading itself throughout the subterranean waters.
My mother had me swaddled tightly, tiny fists
close to my face, as immaculate as on the very first day.
through eyelashes glued shut, through the thinnest, most delicate of eardrums,
the Fates made their entrance.
They bore their gifts wrapped in cloud, with three faces.
It turned to night.
Their steps on the cobblestone floor sparked fire, sparked stars.
They had brilliant gowns, the Fates
(here and there, the pearl flowers were beginning to unravel—
but in the pale snow-light, this could not be seen very clearly).
On the far side, Libra, the Scales, in oscillation, trembling
eyes half closed.